Frostbite

Where are the words

that used to dance across the screen

cold water hitting hot oil?

Essence of my soul

that seeped out of fingertips

life blood smeared smoothly across the keys?

Permafrost now spreading slowly outward

in fern patterns

invades hands

crystallizes minerals deep in the bone

makes them brittle

makes them ache

raw and chafed

as I rub gently

in vain attempt

to restore healthy rosy hue

back into icy blue flesh

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

 

20 thoughts on “Frostbite

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